Come Round Soon
by Silent Epiphany
Summary: "The angels said I'd smile today...oh well, who needs angels anyway?" Songfic, angst, maybe a little dark? Rated T for safety.


**"Come Round Soon"**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam Wing or the song used here in this fic. No compensation sought, none received.

**Warnings: **Songfic, mild sexual content (not even worthy of a lime warning), dark.

**Pairing: **2x?

**Author's Notes:**

Song in use here is _"Come Round Soon"_ by Sara Bareilles from the 2004 album _"Careful Confessions"._ Please note!: The lyrics in use here are from the _"Careful Confessions" _version of the song, NOT the version heard on _"Little Voice"_ in which the final verse is different. These lyrics were edited to eliminate repetition; for example, the chorus only makes one appearance in this fic.

* * *

_For this fic only:_

…_lyrics…_

_emphasis_

'_thought'_

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…_I could use another cigarette  
But don't worry daddy, I'm not addicted yet  
One too many drinks tonight and I miss you  
Like you were mine…_

It was nearly dawn when Duo crept from within the second story of the safehouse, stepping out onto a wrought iron-lined balcony. Leaning both elbows down on the chilly railing, he drew in a long breath and stared up at the moon, fingers unconsciously digging in his pants pockets for the items that had become his nightly indulgence. Shielding the lighter's flame with his right hand, the American raised a cigarette to his lips and lit it, taking a few quick drags to ensure it wouldn't go out.

Never before had Duo done anything that could form such a nasty habit, but he'd recently become fond of cigarettes. Originally, smoking reflected satisfaction; he had shared his first cigarette with the boy he so desired after they first made love.

Or at least Duo had thought it was making love. It was, in his mind. Yet, when the light of the next morning shone in through the window, the American found himself curled up in the bed they had once shared, alone.

And so had it been ever since.

As their sexual encounters became more frequent, so did the smoking. Before he knew it, he found himself confronted with two habits he couldn't kick: the cigarettes, and _him_.

…_Your stormy words have barely broken  
And you sound like thunder  
__Though you've barely spoken  
Oh, it looks like rain tonight, and thank God  
'Cause a clear sky just wouldn't feel right…_

Night after night, he would crawl in bed with Duo and take whatever he needed or desired. The Deathscythe pilot willingly gave every time, but no matter the circumstance or words exchanged, he always wound up alone.

This evening was no exception.

Putting the filtered end of the cigarette to his lips, the American drew in a long breath, feeling the chemicals infiltrate his lungs before slowly exhaling. The crispness he had felt when he'd first inhaled the smoke was gone; but then again, nothing had been as good as it was on the first night.

Duo shivered at a cold breeze that curled around his bare chest, abruptly eroding away the ashes from the tip of his cigarette and sweeping chestnut bangs from his eyes. There were storm clouds on the horizon, and with them, the rumble of thunder and distant flicker of lightning.

Even if it rained, he had no desire to go back inside. He couldn't escape the swirling fury of emotions in his head, so why should he hide from unfavorable weather?

It matched his mood, and seemed perfectly fitting for his situation.

After all, storms were just as powerful and fleeting, and left just as much destruction in their wake. If only _he_ knew of the devastation he was leaving behind every time he walked out…

_…You may be my final match  
'Cause I chase everything when you play throw  
__And I play catch_

_Never took much to keep me satisfied  
But all this bullshit you feed me  
__You miss me, you need me  
This hungry heart will not subside… _

At first, his lover would offer him fond words, and was always delicate and cautious in his ministrations. Even as his lover's appetites increased and the tenderness in his actions vanished, the American made sure the boy's every carnal desire was met, every fantasy fulfilled. Duo had never seen himself as capable of such acts, but for _him_, he would be. Only for him.

The nights where he would stay and see the braided pilot off to sleep were few, and it wasn't long before Duo was confronted nightly with watching the boy he loved as he casually pulled his clothes back on and left as though nothing had transpired between them at all.

It must not be enough, the violet-eyed boy surmised; if he could just go a little further, do a little more, perhaps he'd figure out the secret that would get his lover to stay. But what more was there? What more did he need to give? What were the words he was neglecting to say? His thoughts and emotions circled about his mind, flooding his consciousness just as the looming storm clouds ahead inundated what was once a peaceful moonlit night.

Duo took another long drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke out into the murky sky. Just as their nightly sessions had shifted from something the American once saw as a manifestation of romantic feelings to something entirely different, so had his habit. No longer was it associated with the satisfaction it once symbolized; instead, it reflected the frustration and exhaustion of Duo's tireless efforts.

And, as the smoking was damaging his body, the mess he'd unwittingly gotten himself into was destroying something much more important to him, the pain of which far beyond that of any physical injury. Still, he found himself powerless to resist either of his addictions.

_...He's taken and leaving  
But I keep believing  
That he's gonna come round soon  
Until I see him again  
I'm staying believing  
That it won't be deceiving  
When he's gonna come round..._

Soft footsteps took the braided boy by surprise as Quatre crept out and caught sight of his companion smoking. Duo whirled around to see the Arabian clad in blue silk sleepwear, arms curled about himself to shield his body from the chilly night air. Aquamarine eyes shifted from the American's startled expression to the glowing object between his index and middle fingers.

"When did you start?" Quatre asked simply.

Duo hurriedly extinguished the cigarette, nearly burning himself in the process.

It didn't take an empath to see the torment the American was enduring, but being one brought the picture into perfect focus for Quatre.

Duo tugged his matted braid over his shoulder, but the Arabian had already seen the marks he had attempted to cover. Bite marks. Evidently, Duo's capricious lover had been particularly aggressive with him last time.

The blonde gave his fellow pilot a concerned look. "Why do you let him do this to you?"

"Do what?" Duo blinked, feigning ignorance.

Quatre placed a hand over his heart and smiled knowingly at his companion. "Don't be coy, Duo; I know everything. Now, why?"

Duo sighed. "…Because I love him."

"Does he return your love?"

"Well, we're together every night…" Duo defended.

"That isn't love. It's…experimentation." Quatre returned hesitantly.

The long-haired boy folded his arms in a defensive gesture, his gaze shifting out into the cloudy night sky. "He'll come around soon. You watch."

"Suit yourself," Quatre shrugged, "I can't tell you what to do. I just hate to see a friend get hurt." He hugged the American around the shoulders briefly. "Be careful, Duo."

…_Well I may seem naive if I cry as you leave  
Like I'm just one more tortured heart  
But baby don't be fooled_

_These cracks that I show as I'm watching you go  
__Aren't tearing me apart  
Cuz I know I'll see you soon…_

Another night, another encounter; only this time, as he watched his lover dress, Duo's own words resounded in his mind: _"He'll come around soon."_

And he would. Duo was confident that, bit by bit, he was winning over his fickle lover with his charms. Quatre worrying about it was just Quatre being his over-protective, paranoid self.

Or maybe he was secretly jealous. Duo didn't know which, and it really didn't matter.

He grinned to his re-clothing partner, simulating satisfaction as he had done every night after their first. "You love me, don't you?"

No reply.

The American seductively trailed a finger up the length of his bare body from hip to collarbone, arching off the mattress and into the touch slightly just for effect. Widening his grin purposely, he continued, undeterred. "…Your actions speak louder than words, anyhow."

As if he hadn't heard the words at all, the American's lover made his way toward the bedroom door without a single sound of acknowledgement.

Once he knew he was alone once more, Duo rolled over and buried his face into his pillow.

…_The angels said I'd smile today  
Oh well who needs angels anyway?..._

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~OWARI~

**AN: **Loved the premise of this fic, but was overall pretty displeased with the final product. :/ Watch for me to edit and repost this later.

Anyhow, I wrote this as a HeeroxDuo piece originally, then decided to be vague and let the reader decide who Duo's mysterious lover is. :D If you feel like it, I'd LOVE to hear who you all thought it was! *points to review button* Tell me! ^^

Also…sequel? My beta suggested perhaps I go a bit further and follow this up with something a little more lighthearted. Thoughts?


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